


You Are Home To Me

by simplyblishp



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, mention rape from ramsay bolton, thoughts of sibling cest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyblishp/pseuds/simplyblishp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started out as a drabble with the prompt word "comfort." Now I have no idea where it'll go but I'm in blissful JonxSansa hell and I needed this out of my system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Night, Her Lady's Chamber

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own GOT or it's characters.

Crystallize dew on blades of grass, the sky dawned with the strain of a raising sun trying to break through the thick clouds of a brewing storm, morning awakes but winter is here. Creatures of the north huddle in every nook and cranny seeking comfort in each others warmth. No different from the entangled limbs and protective embrace of two wolves seeking warmth and comfort under their furs.

This morning they are in the Lord's chamber. The night before it was Robb's old room and the night before that her Lady's chamber. The amenity of having a royal wing all to themselves though neither of them enjoyed it; perhaps that is why they wondered seeking each other in the night before nesting in the room they felt most connected to that night. Winterfell was their home but home felt empty, distant and far too quite.

Upon their first night at Winterfell per Sansa's insistence he took up the Lord's chamber. Their father and the Lady mother's room.

_"I'm not a Stark."_

_"You are to me."_

This brief memory fluttered through his thoughts only then did he allow himself to believe the Lady mother was not looking upon him disappointingly as he rested. He wasn't sleeping most nights as it was, coming back from the dead can do that to a man, if that was what he was anymore. The dreams were nightmarish at best, the loss of Ygritte, reliving his death, and most recently having the hope of reuniting with his brother Rickon torn maliciously from the bastard Ramsey. The sudden start along with the cold sweats was a nightly ritual often resulting in his early rises and journey out to the court yard to clear his mind. Tonight it appeared it would be no different even in the refuge of Winterfell, his home. He dressed swiftly and entered the hall of the royal wing.

In passing her Lady's chamber an alert Ghost sat, softly whining, his gaze fixed on Sansa's door. Ghost had become Sansa's newest shadow in addition to Lady Brienne. Again if not for Sansa's graceful command the Lady Knight would more then likely be the one sleeping outside her door instead of Ghost. Noticing Jon's presence Ghost accepted the petting of his snout which lead to the top of his head. If worry were written it was clearly inked upon the direwolf's features.

Despite the thickness of the chamber door Jon could clearly here the rustling within, thinking it odd for his sister to still be up he raised his hand to knock when the noise within stopped. Letting his hand drop he waited a breath or two. _'We are safe, we are home.'_ Jon repeated to himself in an effort to calm his unsettled thoughts. He waited another beat before turning to head out when he heard a soft cry, "No, no please stop." Formality be damned the white wolf entered the chamber on guard, his eyes already adjusted to the night, he quickly sought out Sansa.

The image before him took the very breath from his lungs. There were no others in the room, as he feared, all the same the outer lights revealed her frail figure hugging her knees before her head jerked up, her body tense at his sudden intrusion, the fear ever clear through her exposed tear filled expression. Her features soften with his recognition. He didn't know the details, he didn't know if he ever wanted to know the details, all that was certain is that the woman… 'God's when did she become a woman?' he shook his head to child his thoughts. The woman, the Lady of Winterfell, his sister was being tortured by her own demon much like himself.

He cautioned his steps towards her, "Sansa?" his voice was thick having only now spoken after his own awaking moment. "Sansa, it's me Jon. No one else, just me." As he came closer he noticed her body relax slightly.

"Jon? Jon I'm… I'm sorry did I wake you?"

"No, I heard you in passing. You put me in a panic. Should I get you anything? Would you perfer Lady Brienne?" even though he promised to be the one to protect her, he imagined the demon's she was fighting in her sleep to be the venomous bastard Ramsey and that a male figure wouldn't offer much comfort towards her hatred. Even in death that Bolton bastard still haunted her dreams.

"No, no please don't go," her pleading look caused another rift in his heart.

"Alright Sweetling I'll stay till you fall back asleep," he found his way back to the door, a distraction from the heat that rose to his cheeks. 'Sweetling?' Where did that come from?' Ghost was already laid out to block and guard the way; Jon quietly closed the door. Sansa watched him from her bed. Even in the dim of night she saw the tired in his strong and worried features. She was feeling awful for waking him till she saw him discard his heavy pelt cloak, the one she had made for him, upon one of the sitting chairs. "Where you leaving?" her voiced cracked suddenly. He removed his boots and had begun his descent into the chair when she spoke. "Just to the yard. Sleep is hard to find some nights. So I walk and watch the night," he grinned at this. His watch never really ended he supposed. She nodded her in understanding.

The red wolf laid back upon the pillows pulling the fur up towards her chin. She laid but still felt uneasy when she tried to close her eyes. Memories could be so cruel. They didn't use to be. Being here in Winterfell Sansa felt hopeful that the happy memories of her family and time spent would chase away the darkness that visited nightly. Her breath caught as dark cruel hues watched her, bloodied hands reaching for her, _'you will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister, you will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother, then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see'_ She sat up once again trying to control the panic that was encircling her heart.

"Jon!? Would you, would you mind laying over here?," she laid her hand to the empty space beside her. Her request was somewhat hesitant and so was his response. "Aye," came the soft reply sensing her unrest. He was dressed for the cold of winter so with torpid movement he discarded his outer jacket, laying it with the pelt. Having caught herself staring as he undressed further Sansa quickly averted her gaze to the furs turning them down for him. She felt almost foolish as a slight red painted her cheeks. Left in his trousers and linen shirt Jon made his way to the other side of the bed and slipped into the warmth.

Both laid there uncertain and quite. It's not like they haven't shared a bed before; granted it had been as children during a storm and with four of their other siblings. Sansa's throat tighten. Father, mother, Robb, Rickon they were gone. Arya and Bran they could still be out there, they could still be alive. She turned to see Jon's resting profile. Jon. He was here.

Jon is Jon. He's my brother. He'll keep me safe. I trust him.

He had promised to keep her safe. Even after mocking him with no one can keep anyone safe, he chased down that bastard Ramsey. Beat him to near death for Rickon for all the unspeakable he did to her yet he stopped for her. He knew, as did she, as they looked at one another, the snow falling around them. She would be the one to take his life. She passed the sentence and being her father's daughter she stood firm as she watch the dogs tear into Ramsey's flesh.

 _'Jon's here. It's just the two of us now.'_ Sansa mused still gazing at his shut lids and his dark curls. He had forgiven her childhood stigmatize of him in a instant. Jon who had unknowingly became her strength in the midst of the chaos. He had given her due credit and acknowledged his folly. He had changed so much these past few years. He would keep her safe. This she believed with her whole heart.

She reached for him, "Jon?" He felt her hand snake through the furs, turning his head to look at her, he met her hand with his own lacing their fingers. Silent tears traveled the path across her cheeks and nose, for once the tears weren't shed to sadness or pain. "Thank you," she managed to squeak out. Even though confusion was etched in his brow at her words he shifted towards her, wrapping her in an embrace, her head laid on his chest arm wrapped round his waist. The awkward passed as the two held each other through the night offering a comfort from one another that even they didn't know they could give to the other.


	2. Night Two, Robb's Old Room

Morning found the two wolves nestled within one another. Sansa with her back to Jon's chest and Jon's arm protectively wrapped about her slender waist. This moment of peace was a far cry from their night of constant shifting and sudden jolts of awake. Through the course of the night they drifted to either side of the bed away from each other yet when one awoke the other would move close sensing their dismay.

Their shyness came through noticing the compromising way in which they awoke. Despite the innocence of the comfort it was still very intimate for two who had little to no physical affection between them. In releasing her from his hold no words were exchanged just soft smiles. Silently Jon slipped from the bed, gathered his belonging and giving one last glance over his shoulder towards Sansa he returned to his own chamber. The vision of the sun's light catching in her hair was enough for him to curse the inappropriate thought, _'she's your sister'_ he reminded himself.

The day kept both Lord Snow and Lady Stark occupied. Sansa and Jon sat at the head of the hall side by side. Jon recently named King in the North and Sansa true Lady of Winterfell. Observers new and old of the two now saw before them a strong and resilient pair complementing what the other lacked. Sansa with her silver tongue and knowledge she gained from King's Landing and Jon with his experience of battle and ability to win people over with his spirit alone.

 _'The King of the North and the Lady of Winterfell,'_ even their titles themselves were suggestive thought Jon who was failing miserably to stay focus on the conversation at hand with the other Lord's in the great hall. To be fair they were mainly jabbering amongst themselves about the tales of old were the white walkers were concerned. The talks grew combersome; Jon knowing first hand the real threat he witnessed on the shores of Hardhome.

'How do we even begin to defend against what is to come?' Jon's thoughts distant 'we have only just come home and have been reunited,' his gaze went to Sansa, her own gaze dutifully watching over the hall 'how is it possible I am to lose again what I have just found.' In that moment bright blue hues met his own gray's and held him captive.

A knowing glance, a simple nod towards him and with a shift in her skirt the Lady of Winterfell rose. Her stance claiming the attention of all in the hall as she called for an end to the days discussions to be resumed with the scouts return and reports. With winter upon them the days were short and the atmosphere shifted from grim war council to the evenings feast and talks of grimly accounts of battles.

_'I'm tired of fighting. It's all I've done since I left home. I've killed brothers of the Night's Watch. I've killed wildlings. I've killed men that I admire. I've hanged a boy younger than Bran. I fought and I lost.'_

Jon's words echoed in her thoughts drowning out the tales at the dinner tables. She had meant to rally Jon and the people of the North, to claim Winterfell and restore the Stark name and it's place in the North. Winterfell was made for them to be together and safe. It was a beacon for the brother and sister who may still be alive to find their way home again. Lastley a memory of a time before and a place to remember those they had lost in this atrocious journey.

The red wolf found herself unable to breath, her thoughts and memories overwhelmed. Jon's ever watchful eye missed nothing in the subtle hitch of her breathing and the wayward of her gaze. He watched as she excused herself, using a lady excuse of tiredness, though Jon knew better. She offered a small smile his way so that he would not worry and retired to her room. The King of the North could not as easily dismiss his presence. Most of the Lords and her Lady Mormont would be returning to their respected houses in preparation for the White Wolf's call. Now it was he who was duty bound to watch over the the hall, his anxiousness only calmed by the presence of Lady Brienne and Ghost following after Sansa.

The Lady of Winterfell accepted the company of Ghost again within the royal wing but relieved Lady Brienne of her watch assuring the Lady Knight that even with a castle full of men Ghost would make sure anyone unwanted would not come near her much less within the wing. The rooms of the Stark children lead the way to the Lord's chamber and her own at the end of the hall. Arya's, Robb's was the largest and shared by Jon and Theon, Bran's and Rickon. If it were possible her heart felt heavier in their memory.

Entering her room the soft glow of the fire the servants had started for the evening burned warm. Before closing her door Sansa gave a welcomed pet to Ghost's head, closing her door the direwolf settled upon his place as guard. Since their return and even before Sansa refused the aid of any servants when it came to her bath or dress. She didn't want anyone to see and start gossip over her mutilated body.

_You can't kill me. I'm part of you now._

Ramsay words nearly causing her to lose what little she had eaten. She hastily changed from her dress to her underclothes quickly wrapping her rob around her; the less she had to see or touch her marred skin the better.

She settled for most of the evening in her mothers chair next to the hearth taking up the needle she had started earlier in the day before the gathering in the hall. Poor Jon, she had left him to handle the war stories and with the seeing off of most of the Lords. Only served him right for daydreaming while in the great hall while she earnestly listen to the other houses. Winter was here and though they had won back their home peace from beyond the Wall and from the South was nowhere to be found.

She could recall simpler time when they were younger, her brothers, Jon, Theon and Aray would be running and causing all kind of ruckus throughout the hall disturbing her as she needled. In the past she would call out for them to act proper and to quite themselves for all that what she wanted to hear most was their voices and laughter ringing down the hall as she threaded the needle through. Night came on and much of the louder noises/voices from the dinner had settled. She knew Jon still had not returned as the Lord's chamber was across from her own and she would have easily heard his going and coming.

The two of them as of recent were never for long without the others company. If they were to lose sight of each other for too long it felt like they might never again find one another; find the comfort that only their pack could give to one another. She thought herself folly in the remembrance of the way she had treated Jon when they were kids. And wondered in the thought of how much he meant to her now, for even she couldn't describe, put to words what his very presence did to her. Feeling a bit lonely she decided that perhaps she'd let Ghost in for company. Setting her needle down she made her way to the door, as faithful as ever she was greeted with a white coat and red eyes. She ushered the wolf in just as a clap of thunder sounded.

_'Sansa? Sansa,?' called a much younger Arya in the bed next to her own. 'I'm scared of the storm I want to go to mother and father,' she called. In truth her younger self didn't much like the lightening that crack across the sky, it sent eerie shadows. She sat up and nodded her agreeance. Both girls rustled out of their beds and made their way to the chamber door, holding hands. Entering the hall both look left and right before crossing to the door across the hall. Just then Rickon and Bran in their nightgowns appeared down the hall and stopped at Robb's door before pushing it open, they quickly went inside leaving the door open. Upon seeing this the two girls scrambled down the hall just as another roll of thunder sounded._

_Rickon and Bran were already rousing an asleep Robb begging to be let up into his bed. Robb always had the biggest bed amongst the Stark children. 'Okay, okay,' he answered sounding annoyed at being awoken but seeing his little brothers frighten faces he couldn't turn them away. At that moment he looked up to see the girls at the frame of the door. 'I suppose you girls want up too?' They nodded quickly running over and settled along side Rickon and Bran who were tucking themselves into either side of Robb. The storm and voices have also woken Jon and Theon sitting up on their own beds (beside Robb's) on the outside looking in at the pile of Stark children. Robb who doesn't see Greyjoy or Snow merely his brothers calls out, 'well come on then.' After some rumbling about elbows in ribs and foots in faces everyone finds their spot, Robb in the middle, the youngest at his sides, Arya and Theon on Rickon's side and Sansa with Jon at Bran's side. Even Sansa wasn't heartless enough to snub Jon during such a frightening storm. Nestled tighter then any other wolves in a den the children sleep peacefully through the night and are found exactly in that fashion the next morning by Lord and Lady Stark._

In the duration of this memory Sansa had found her way down the hall to Robb's old room. She stood at the doorway looking upon that very bed now as silent tears fell. Gods she missed them, missed them all so very much. Making her way over she laid on Robb's old bed holding on to the bedding and that very memory for all that she was worth and that is exactly as Jon found her a couple hours later.

Initially he was frantic to find her bedroom door wide open with no sight of Ghost. He ran passed Robb's room not noticing the direwolf or sleeping figure within. Sansa's room didn't show signs of a struggle as Jon called and searched. He ran back into the hall and noticed Ghost sitting at Robb's door his head cocked to the side as if wondering if his master had gone mad. 'I've kept her safe and warm.' Ghost seemed to say as he yawned and settled outside the door when Jon entered.

A sigh of relief did it's work to bring a waking Sansa out of her sleep fully. "Jon? Were you calling me?" her voice was raw from earlier and though dried now he could make out the puffiness of her tear stained eyes. "Aye, I didn't mean to wake you. I thought… when I saw your door ajar with you and Ghost nowhere to be found. I'm sorry, go back to sleep," his words ran, he never was good at talking to woman. Sansa could hear the genuine concern in his voice. "Jon wait!" she called after his retreating form, "won't you sit with me for a moment?" she patted the empty spot by her. This gesture though innocent was enough to make her blush in the afterthought of her actions. After all she was a Lady who in essence just beckoned him, a Lord to her side.

"Aye, my Lady once I get a fire going for you," he moved to prepare the fireplace for it was his turn to feel the heat of his words on his cheeks. The servants had only prepared the rooms in which they were using she just realized. Her gaze fell towards Ghost knowing he probably had something to do with her being warm in a empty room which held such a chill especially with the storm still passing by. "There," Jon exclaimed triumphantly at his handy work. This caused Sansa to smile. With the warming room Jon didn't see the need for his coat which he discarded before sitting with Sansa.

He took a moment for himself to look around the room in which he grew up in and spent with his brother Robb and Theon. These four walls held good memories. "What brought you here?" his voice cut into the comfortable silence they sat in. "Hmmm, a memory," she pondered aloud. Jon nodded as his our thoughts were being flooded with sensory memories. "Do you remember?," she reached for his hand and held it within her small one, "a night much like this one, when all seven of us were small enough to barely fit on this bed?" It took a moment before his eyes crinkled and he released a light chuckle, "Aye, Robb complained the next morning how we nearly suffocated him in his own bed." Sansa's bright blues lit up thinking back again to that night/morning with much fondness and happier thoughts now that she had someone to remember and share the memory with, "I miss them."

"Aye, so do I. Remember when…"

And so went their second night in Winterfell. The two wolves in the comfort of their childhood den sharing memories they knew as children and even stories they didn't even know about one another that happened in and around these very castle walls. Sometime into the morning sleep took them both, who fell first neither could argue. Much like the time when they were children and last night Jon was once again Sansa's shield against the night's storm and darkness.


End file.
